The Forgotten Prophecy
by biovoid
Summary: This is the story of the 2nd Act of The Prophecy. Set 18 Yrs after Brutal Legend 1, It follows a new group of characters (named Titus, Josef & Shados) and still has much of the original cast, albeit in smaller roles. Rated M for violence, language, and ever-possible Lemon.
1. Biographies of the New Crew

Name: Titus

Gender: Male

Age: 17 Yrs Old

Weapon: Spiked Club

Solo: Microphone

Fighting Style: Quick, Hard Strikes

Species: Human

Genre: Grunge

Description: Titus is backup guitar and vocals for popular local band TriFierce, and is a standout despite being given the most basic pieces. While he doesn't enjoy the bandmates at all, he stays in to make the listeners happy. He seems to be out of place to the others, as if he came right out of a Nirvana music video.

Name: Josef

Gender: Male

Age: 16 Yrs Old

Weapon: Longsword & Shield

Solo: Drums

Fighting Style: Sword & Shield

Species: Human

Genre: Classic

Josef is a tad of an outcast, enjoying the future and past at the same time. He knows how to battle with a rapier, yet can work lights and sound like a seasoned pro. He was asked on a favor by Titus to do the latest concert, and the duo are very close friends.

Name: Shados

Gender: Female

Age:16 Yrs Old

Weapon: Short Sword

Solo: Bass

Fighting Style: Evasive

Species: Half Black Tear, ¼ Demon, ¼ Human

Genre: Punk

Shados is the daughter of Eddie and Ophelia Riggs, and is a very experienced member of the army. She started fighting at the age of 10, when the 3rd Rising of the Black Tear Rebellion started again. Since then, she has proved her worth, using the same weapon she started with, and her skills are regarded to be amongst the best in Ironheade, able to fight alongside her parents.


	2. Check, 1, 2!

***DISCLAIMER***

I don't own Brutal Legend, which is owned by Double Fine and EA Partners. All I own is the new factions, Shados, Titus and oddball Josef.  
>Also, I'm an avid wrestling fan and while I won't be throwing John Cena in, I will utilize some of the moves in the fighting, be it a hurricanrana or a Chokeslam.<p>

***END OF THING***

Ch 1

The fans were screaming outside, and it was the biggest show TriFierce had ever headlined. Titus looked out at the masses, then down to himself. 4 thousand. There were 4 thousand people out there, screaming. He didn't care about the amount; rather, he was more concerned with the music they were there for. He believed in his ability to play guitar and sing, without a doubt. What he didn't have faith in was the rest of the band. He had agreed to be in this group when they started, because they had told him they wanted to recreate the days of old, with metal reigning free. But as soon as he walked into the first practice with the drummer using a laptop to feed beats into the "background", he realized otherwise. Since then, they had proven time and time again that the closest these idiots would get to metal were the piercings they wore to stage, and those were clip-on. Titus tried to play his best with the skill he had, but every time he tried to make good music, they would bog on him, saying he was going against the style that they were known for, whatever style that was. He lit his cigarette and took a drag, shooting the smoke out of his nostrils. The band was sub-par, and he hated it. But as long as they were gaining popularity in this city, he would try to bring legitimacy to their music.

"Took me awhile to find you, Tite." A voice said out faintly away. Titus looked below and behind him to see one of his only friends, Josef, standing on the platform, if you could call it that, nearest to him. The stage that Titus and the crew helped make was in essence a large beast, similar to the one that was used by the late (and according to the rest of the band, great) Cabbage Boy. One of the main differences was that while the stage of Cabbage Boy was a large fire beast Stonehenge type of thing, while the TriFierce stage had a much ore "infectious beast" vibe, with large slimes and oils sliding from it's pipes, and the beast shaped as a large, chrome, skeletal lizard. The stage, which took 4 weeks for them to create, was nicknamed Epôkalîps. Josef was standing on the top spiked vertebrae, while Titus was on the fangs of the beast. Titus jumped down onto a rib adjacent to the backbone, took another puff, and started talking.

"Sorry, man, I just don't like the bandmates too much… Thanks for showing up." He tapped the ash off of his light, then continued. "The most experienced person for lights and sounds that we have is that ass-backwards drummer, and I doubt he can understand what a light bulb even is. I know you can make a flashlight and maraca into a party, so you think you can do it?" He asked nonchalantly.

"I dunno, Tite, if I have to keep talking to them…" Josef trailed off. Titus knew exactly what he meant, the bass player could drop your IQ in a conversation, and the drummer wasn't much better.

"You don't have to, just give them the heads up in a minute. You got your booth set up already, right?" Titus asked.

"Yeah, was the first thing I did here. So tell me now, why are you still holding into this ridiculous band?"

Titus stopped for a second. "Even though they suck, I joined this band to try and be in something legitimately metal. Sure, they proved that isn't what they are, but without me they have no hope. I'm in here because real music needs to be played. Now c'mon, I gotta go down there before they freak out about where I'm at." Titus climbed down the ribs, and jumped down onto the amps. The lead singer, a scrawny little wimp wearing vampire fangs and a raccoon eye bandana, screamed at him.

"Hey Titass, why are you always skipping practice? We decided that since you were gone, we took out your solos." He laughed at Titus, putting on some blue eyeliner. "By the way, that one dude with the ponytail you invited, he doesn't even have any gimmick! What's he gonna wear to the stage?"

"He's gonna wear the clothes he has. He doesn't need to dress up funny to make us not sound like total shit." Titus said pointedly. Every time the rest of the band talked, they just indicted the public school system worse.

"Whatever, if he's not as good as Squirm, we're gonna kick his ass!" He boasted, acting like he was such hot shit. Titus groaned, walked backstage, and set up, readjusting his Epôkalîps bracelet they built the stage after. It was chrome, with the spiked ball tail and body wrapped around his forearm, with it's mouth gaping around his full wrist and the fangs ending in the middle of his hand. He grabbed his guitar, a Razorback, pulled the strap around himself, and tested the strings . It sounded good until he hit the shrills. He re-tuned it, finally finishing up on the cigarette. He could hear the back-up band doing a quick set, and went to his starting position to get onstage. The first band got offstage, and took their check. Titus waited until the drums were set and the singer screamed their name a few times, and walked out. The drummer started counting off, and all of a sudden the lights shut off, save the one directly on the bass. Titus smirked. Josef was a genius at his tech. The beats started fading in, and they started playing. The concert was going way better than any other TriFierce show, with strobing and switches in the backgrounds to better equip the acoustics. That's when the stupid happened.

Halfway into their 4th song, the bass player started dancing on the amp wall, jumping around and thrashing. The problem with that was the amps were set by the leg supports, and he was tilting them back. Titus looked back, saw this and stopped playing and singing. He pulled out his walkie talkie and sent out a signal to Josef.

"Jo, listen! That idiot is gonna crash the set if he keeps going, and you're way closer than I am. I'm gonna try and get these 2 to leave, you stop him. GO!" He dashed over to the drummer, and yelled for him to leave. The idiot just kept banging the pedals and playing away, shaking his head no. Titus decided to cut his losses and try to at least convince the singer to get offstage. He ran up front, and started trying to explain what was happening to the singer, but the asshole was just ignoring him and pushed him away. Frustrated, Titus pushed him into the ground, screaming.

"Are you kidding me, man?" GET OFFSTAGE, YOU IDIOT!" He was so pissed at these guys, he was at his breaking point. The singer got up and swung at him. Titus let it connect weakly against his jaw, and smiled. This bastard wanted to play? He could do that.

"My turn now, bitch." He said softly, taking a step towards the singer. The coward faltered back, tripping over the mic stand. Titus smirked. This was gonna be fun. He got right up close to his fallen band mate, lifting one fist, getting ready to throw it, but before he could, the little spitfuck grabbed the mic stand from next to him and swung for Titus' head. The cold metal cracked into his jaw, knocking him back. Before he could turn around completely, he felt a chord wrap around his neck and start to tighten. That little bastard was trying to kill him! The singer leaned back, throttling him. Titus could feel his lungs tightening. He swung his shoulders forward as hard as he could, flipping the singer over him. The fans were screaming as loud as they could, but Titus couldn't tell if it was approval or horror. The singer started getting up, and Titus slammed his knee into the coward's back. He turned and saw the bass player arguing with Josef and the supports starting to crack from the amps leaning against them. He punched the singer in the face, knocking him back, and felt a heavy object slam into his back, dropping him. He groaned in pain, looking back at the drummer, holding a symbol. The singer got up, and the 2 started stomping on him. Before they got very far with that, Titus pulled himself up and slammed the two together, throwing them off the stage. They hadn't even hit the ground when the leg supports finally cracked, with the rib holders caving in on top of Titus. His bracelet sliced his arm up, and he saw a flash of green and heard a loud scream followed by chaos. He could feel himself getting pulled and Josef hollering in fear, but he didn't give a damn, he was passing out. He felt a wave of darkness consume him, and everything went black.


	3. The Land of Metal, Revisited

Ch 2

Titus woke up, feeling lightheaded, and got up, confused. This place was DEFINITELY not the concert. He was alone on a grassy hill, with a huge stone square cross next to him. His head felt sore, but he was fine otherwise. He checked his left arm, and the bracelet was still there, but the gash wasn't. He walked past the cross, sliding down the hill. There were no buildings that he could see, just some bad ass statues made out of stone. This wasn't anywhere near his house, that was for sure. He leaned against a tree, lighting up again. While he was entertaining himself with the flicker from his Zippo, he saw a pair of black shoes come up. Shutting the lighter, Titus looked up and saw a small crew of disturbingly sickening looking guys with emo haircuts, striped shirts and shovels. They were seeming to be staring at him, but their eyes were gaping and glazed over.

"Uh, can I help you boys out?" Titus offered, holding his hands up. The closest one opened his mouth as if he would start talking, but just paused, groaned and lifted the shovel. Titus jumped out of the way in the last second, feeling the shovel whiz by.

"WHOA, MAN!" He dived away from another. These bastards weren't playing around! Every time one swung, Titus jumped away, but it was getting harder to do so as they were circling him. He realized the smart thing to do, and waited. The entire group surrounded him and slowly lifted their shovels. The second before they slammed them down, though, he jumped up and dropkicked the closest, using the momentum carrying him back to elbow the 2 behind him. The only other two standing slammed their shovels together. Titus rolled up backwards, and pulled up his fists, ready to take those 2 on.

A groan from behind penetrated his concentration. As Titus turned, the 2 he knocked down pulled themselves right back up. He spun to see the one he dropkicked rising up without using his upper body strength at all, gripping onto the shovel. These things weren't normal; that was obvious. Those shovels looked sharp, and there wasn't a weapon Titus could see nearby. As a rudimentary advantage, Titus ran back up the hill he first arrived on. As he appeared at the top, he saw even more of those depressed guys on the other side of the hill. Titus turned back, and the boys were even closer. With nowhere left to turn, he climbed up the cross. He pulled himself up on the top, feeling a tad concerned. Luck seemed to be in his favor though, as he found a weapon stuck to the top of the cross, and a damn good one. Slammed into the rock so hard it pierced in was a bat-type weapon with thick, neat, banded columns of spikes jutting out in 8 directions and the tip(A/N: Imagine the spikes from an actual spiked bracelet, but no leather; rather, a steel band wrapped tightly around the bat).

Titus pulled his hardest, and yanked it from it's bearings. The "zombie guys" were pulling themselves onto the cross, and Titus wrecked shop on the first 6 to get near him. Soon, though they were surrounding him, with others coming quickly. He gripped the bat tight, and swung for the heads, dropping as many as he could. Those bastards kept coming, though, swinging their shovels with malice. He was worried, they were climbing higher up onto the stone effigy and he was starting to fear these guys, some now without heads.

A cold feeling was gripping his chest, and he couldn't shake it. His hits grew weaker, his legs heavy. Desperate, he swung with both hands on the shaft, spinning with the tip pointed out. After about 6 rotations, he dropped on his seat, somewhat dizzy and winded. No sooner than he dropped, a shovel whizzed up and slammed into his skull. Dazed, he reached towards he the wound, matting the light blonde hair to his skull, staining it with crimson. The attacker pulled himself up, diving at Titus with a fury. A large section of his skull was gone, as well as his left arm, and he bit at Titus, attempting however he could to detain this newcomer. Titus squirmed and backed away from this freak. When he backed up, however, he fell straight off of the large, 5-meter tall effigy and landed flat on the ground.

The zombie dived after him, with his friends doing the same. Titus backed up, holding the blunt wood in his hands with drained confidence, but was shocked to see his hands and the base of his new bat to be a translucent blue. He could see through his hands! The fear was crippling, but try as he might, he couldn't run. His legs felt like they had been coated in lead. He could swing his arms, but not with much force. The crowd was starting to surround him, and he saw a vehicle in the back emitting blue gasses. Realizing what that "thing" was doing, he forced himself to push into the crowd of cold-blooded, lifeless beings, trudging past with all his might to get to that car. After the first few steps, he gained the momentum to run, going with all his strength. When he finally got close enough, with new cuts and bruises from the crowd, he swung the bat up and slammed with all of his weight at the pipes, feeling a small amount of power seep back into his arms. He swung again, using the increase in power as motivation to keep swinging at it, no matter the fear. With each sequential swing, he felt himself getting stronger and more confident, and felt the freak army behind him trudging even closer. He jumped up, delivering one last slam into the car before the explosion sent him flying black into the crowd, his purple flannel shirt's sleeves being singed in the process.

In the process of getting thrown, he felt all of his composure and strength regaining itself, as he swung hard into the group in front of him, knocking many down and killing a good amount finally. The sound of one of the zombie guys running at him from behind triggered his instinct as he turned around and delivered a clothesline to the running teen, dropping him. As he struggled to get up, Titus grabbed the bat tightly, raised it above his head, and slammed down on the zombie boy, embedding his spikes with a black liquid emanating from the base of his skull. The last of his enemies finally fallen, Titus let out a sigh. He turned to walk away, then instantly regretted the idea when he saw what stood behind him.


	4. First Impressions

***Hey, guys, this is James, the author, here to apologize. I was going to discontinue this story, but didn't have the heart to stop this labor of love. That explains the long wait, but I still feel like I should apologize for the wait. I don't know how many of you actually read this and don't care to. What I do care about is that there is definitely at least 1 person who reads this. You. I will continue typing until either the story ends or nobody reads at all. The past 3 days, I've basically been cranking out words until I believed I was able to write a few chapters, and here they are. BTW, special thanks to HidanKakuzuFanGirl and clucka34, reviews are always appreciated!***

Chapter 3

Standing in front of him was a large, inhumanly thin yet tall man. He had a skeletal look to him, and no hair. His face was skeletal, but the color of everything, save the razoring on him, was a shiny black. Coating his arms, legs, and torso, however, was a protrusion of metal. It was no thinner than a razor, and it seemed to be put in the center on both sides of each limb, front and back. It swung once at him, and Titus blocked the shot with relative ease. It wasn't very strong, slightly weaker than those zombies in force. However, before he could realize it, the beast swung at Titus with his leg, tearing yet another hole into his pants and cutting clean into his thigh. Gasping in pain, Titus made a mental note of this razor armor, deciding to call the beastly thing a Gasher.

The Gasher swung again, quickly, yet Titus rolled out of the way and swung straight for it's face. The Gasher took the shot head-on, but reeled back from the impact, spikes sticking- along with the bat- into his skull. Without a weapon, Titus backed up to consider his strategy. There weren't many attacks he could do. The razor wasn't covering much of it, but Titus' attacks were usually grapples or punches, with the occasional kick thrown in. That razor wouldn't let his attacks pass. It charged him, bringing his thoughts to an end, but giving him an idea. He let it get as close as possible before sidestepping. In one motion he jumped, caught the handle of his club, and swung his feet forward, dropping the large Gasher with momentum. It started flailing and screaming inhuman noises as Titus wrenched the spiked bat out, jumping and driving the top spike into it's damaged skull. It made one final scream before it suddenly went limp.

Titus wedged his bat out, wiping the black blood off of it on the grass. Suddenly, his 7th sense of sorts went off and he could feel an attacker approaching. He turned around quickly, bat held high as a short sword swung into it, inches from where his exposed neck had just been. He looked at his attacker, and was surprised in a rather good way. Standing in front of him was a girl, maybe 5'5", and she was… Very pretty, to say the least. She wasn't exactly curvacious; rather, she had a slender frame, a pretty face and bright eyes. However, those eyes were staring with anger and she had teeth bared. God, those teeth were white.

"You aren't Black Tear, you aren't from Ironheade and you sure as hell aren't Tainted Coil, so that must mean you're either Scream Freak or you're a dead man walking." She growled out, in a voice Titus couldn't help but enjoy listening to with it's melody.

"Whatever those things are, I know I'm none of them… ESPECIALLY the last one," he said, smirking as casually as he could. Seattle was great and all, but he'd never seen such a beautiful girl as the one before him, with her porcelain skin and raven hair. "But hey, whatever side you're on, I definitely want to be a part of." He gave her his trademark broken smile, the left side showing more emotion than the right.

She pulled the sword back. "If you really want to help… Follow me, and keep that thing on you. It will serve you well, as it seems." She turned abruptly, sending her waist-length hair around in the breeze. He followed her down the hill, as they came upon some insanely low metallic purple Chopper. The rims were spiderweb styled, with 3 exhaust pipes on each side, shaped like triangles. To complete the look, the handlebars had fangs on and there were front-mounted bolt guns. Titus couldn't help but gawk; it was beautiful.

"You like? Good, because you're riding bitch seat." She spoke quickly, putting on a pair of Aviators. Titus was shocked with her take-charge attitude... It seemed to be anxious, really. Whatever the case, Titus wasn't taking the back seat.

"That's real funny... No. Be a good host, let me drive." He didn't want to be in the back of something so low-hanging. She glared at him, giving him an unspoken answer of no, then decided to elaborate verbally.

"There's a fucked up car over there if you don't wanna ride. Have fun making it to Bladehenge." She jumped onto the chopper and sped off, with a simple flit of her hand as she turned towards a huge effigy of a sword, which was quite a few miles away, most likely that Bladehenge thing that she had just talked about. Titus shrugged his shoulders, turned around, and examined the car. He had busted up the back, that was for sure. However, it was mainly salvageable and he could manage to drive it; that being said, he drove it at a mind-crippling speed of maybe 20 miles an hour at best. The vehicle sputtered when a thick lock of hair of hair penetrated the engine and caused it to break down. Titus looked at the thing that shot it's hair.

Now Titus could never be described as a fearful boy, he enjoyed horror movies and such, the gorier the better. That being said, the crystal-eyed, bodyless head that was holding itself up with hair and shooting more at him scared the living shit out of him so bad that he tried to run. He made it for about 5 seconds, then this demonic crib came up and started shooting these horrific babies at his face. The first 2 or 3 he tried to catch, but started biting at his hands, so he used the bat to play a twisted sense of baseball, bursting their home plate. The hair-nightmare thing came flying at him like a bat out of hell, so he slammed it into the face so hard it stuck. Using the stuck head, he ran at the creepy bridal girl nearby and slammed it into her, with the disturbing head being used as a buffer. They soon eliminated each other, with the bride dropping and the head exploding into a black mess. He finally walked to the Blade, getting there within about an hour or 2. By the time he got there, however, he was half-coated in black blood and had a few gashes and tears into his body and clothes. The large cut in his head by that time had been adorned by a ripped-off sleeve from his shirt. When he got close to the gate, which seemed to be a skull, a patrol of twenty-something buff, strong-necked guys and girls with ridiculous laser guns ran to stop him. He held the bat out threateningly, asking for trouble basically.

"Listen. You all seem pretty nice and cool-looking, but I've seen some really FUCKED UP shit since I've gotten to this place, and I'll fight any and all takers to prove that I'm not going down easy." He spoke with venom in his voice and pointed the tip's spike at the center of the chest of the closest roughneck.

The guy smirked, and spoke in a gritty voice "Little boy, if you can take me on without that little weapon… We'll escort you in. If not, the RazorFire boars will be more than pleased to have a new meal!" He took off his hat and muscle shirt, wearing only a pair of pants and a bandana for the fight. Titus grit his teeth, taking off the purple flannel over shirt and all of his bracelets, finally taking off his wallet and remaining in his worn jeans and purple and black converse, the tourniquet around his head being a makeshift bandana.

The 2 circled each other, arms in different stances. The much more muscular roughneck had his arms in a boxer's stance, while Titus had a traditional grappler stance. The bigger man struck first, swinging his arm in a hook. Titus, who had quite a scrapping background, smacked the hand down and did a series of jabs to his jaw. The 3 rights seemed to make no difference, however; the man just laughed and swung again. Titus was dodging most shots and doing quick parries, making sure to keep from the much bigger man's reach. Finally, after landing a strong knee to his stomach, the guy crippled over for a second and gave Titus the opening he was looking for. Titus jumped at him, grabbing him in a front headlock and leaning back to keep pressure high. However, he realized that was a mistake soon after, as the guy flexed his neck muscles, flipping Titus into the air by at least 8 meters. Titus came dropping like a sack of flour, only to get caught by a swinging head hitting him hard to the floor.

The guy came charging as soon as Titus hit the ground. Titus waited, biting back the pain until he came close. The second he swung his head down, Titus brought his elbow up, slamming it straight into his forehead. The guy went recoiling backwards, as Titus ran at him and dropkicked his knee, dropping him. As he struggled to get up, Titus ran up, landed with his legs wrapped around his neck, and abruptly tried flipping himself backwards, attempting to land a hurricanrana on the MUCH larger opponent. As he pulled himself back, he heard a groan come from the rough neck, as a big hand grabbed him by the waistband, yanking him back up to a seated position on the man's shoulders. Suddenly, the hand slammed him straight until he landed flat on the ground, his head bouncing painfully from the (most likely whiplash-inducing) powerbomb.

The big guy wrapped his hand around Titus' elbow, yanking him back to a standing position, with Titus' legs barely able to hold his relatively thin frame. With relative ease, he flipped Titus onto his shoulder, holding him up and squeezing on the injured back. Groaning, Titus mustered his strength, slamming an elbow into his forehead hard enough to get dropped prematurely from whatever was going to happen to him. Landing on one knee, Titus pushed himself forward and slammed a hook into the man's stomach, hunching him over. Grabbing him by the back of the head, Titus slammed his knee aggressively into his chest, repeating the action with increasing speed each time, feeling the roughneck's chest impact hard each time he struck. The roughneck caught his leg after a good 8 shots, yanking himself upright with enough speed to flip Titus by the leg. He hunched over Titus, squatting to his face, left arm raised into the air, ready to strike. Thinking quickly, he kicked his left leg up, thumping it into the man's back enough to make him turn around. While the simple-minded man wasn't looking at the prone Titus, he dragged himself out from under him, back rolling to his feet. The guy turned back, looking down still, and Titus football punted him in the side of the head with enough force to knock him out.

One of the girls ran out, screaming "Mongo!" as Titus smirked, rubbing his lower back. Even if the guy didn't win the hard-fought battle, he almost took him out in with each shot he took.

"So, are you going to take me, or what?" He asked semi-impatiently. The girl looked up with a glare.

"We'll take you, all right. Take you straight to hell." She pulled up her gun, aiming it straight at his chest. Titus backed up, afraid of how it was turning out.

"Hey! He's with me." A familiar, melodic voice called out. Titus looked back to see that beautiful girl with the jet-black hair balancing atop a pile of kegs, twiddling a knife before throwing it underhandedly at him. "Keep that on you at all times. It's not big, but if you have a group coming after you unarmed, it's good to have a secret weapon, and that's a projectile if you do it right." She said pointedly, hinting at his unpreparedness. Titus was still a tad in shock from being seconds from death just a second ago. She jumped down, grabbing the sword she saw him holding earlier. "Come with me. I'll show you around."


	5. Foot-in-Mouth Syndrome

Chapter 4, READ IT!

Titus followed her apprehensively, keeping the bat close-by. She walked up to the group, hand extended. "Now then, you've already met Mongo, and the rest of the Sector 1 Headbangers and Razor Girls. Helena, put the gun down. NOW." She yelled it when the woman started to aim the barrel between Titus' eyes. Helena dropped the gun, still glaring. The beautiful girl looked back at him, eyes slightly narrowed. "By the way, I'm not quite sure I got your name." She gestured her sword at him inquisitively.

"Titus. Titus Niccals. And you are?"

"My name is Shados. It's simple enough, don't fuck it up." She returned his casual smirk, a hand on her hip and her sword going back into it's sheath. Given the opportunity, Titus checked out her clothes. She wore an all-white T-shirt, with the Radiohead logo front and center. Adorning her legs was a black skirt and combat boots, and she had a black heart necklace on. Gotta admit, she looked pretty dang amazing, Titus thought. She beckoned her hand away, dragging him from them by the arm. "Pretty stupid of you to pick a fight with Mongo instead of saying you came with me. They would've let you pass and you wouldn't have those bruised ribs."

"I didn't know your name, that would've kinda been hard. I don't think saying "I came here for the babe with the sword" would've gotten me very far." Titus said quietly, begging to be slapped. Shados did just that, whacking the taste out of his mouth.

"Hey, what the hell was that for?" Titus rubbed his mouth sorely. She gave him a slightly playful glare, and responded simply.

"The "babe?" Really?"

Titus chuckled, rubbing lightly. She was feisty, he could already tell. While they were walking around, he decided to ask a question that had honestly been eating at him since he'd awoken.

"By the way… Where exactly are we? This doesn't really look like Seattle, and from what I can remember, I was there at the concert last night. And there definitely isn't as many stupid people as were at the concert." He rubbed the back of his head, remembering the incident with regret. She looked at him like he was crazy, her emerald eyes growing wide.

"You have no idea at all? You aren't from here?" She asked anxiously as she looked him over, her voice betraying her excitement. Titus simply nodded, and she grew apparent in her anxiety. "You have no idea where you are at all? OH MY GOD, I NEED TO SHOW YOU TO LITA! Stay here!" She darted off, as Titus simply stood his ground, feeling some uneasiness at her new-found energy towards him. To be honest, though, he couldn't complain having so much attention from such a cool chick.

He saw a gathering around a fire, and decided to head over and see what they were doing while he waited for Shados, staying in the back. The small crowd consisted of 2 or 3 headbanger guys, a razor girl, and an assortment of others. There was a scary huge man with fists half the size of Titus, a buff goatee-d old guy sitting on an amp, a couple of girls with KISS face paint and not much else on, and some bikers. To be honest, he was both afraid of and intrigued by each of them. Each member of the group had a keg and was handling it like nothing, even the thin "Razor Girl". Soon after he showed up, a guy came up who immediately caught Titus' attention. He wasn't the size of the big fisted guy, but he seemed more imposing still, standing at least 6 and a half, maybe 7 feet tall. On his back was an ax and a guitar, he wore a fitting black shirt with some odd name on it, and his biceps seemed to be the size of watermelons. Speaking of his arms, they were tremendous. Not only was it ridiculously muscled, his arms were as long as Titus' body, at least reaching his chest. To complete the look, he had a thick goatee with gray streaking and similar hair on his head, reaching his shoulders. The second he sat down, the rest of the group greeted him positively, calling him Eddie and throwing him a keg. He sat down on a large chair that seemed reserved for him, saying hello to each of them. When he got to Titus, however, he stopped. Getting up, he waved Titus over to him and pulled him aside from the fire.

"Hey dude, not trying to pry but… who are you? I don't think I've ever seen ya around… That's pretty weird, considering I basically know everybody here... So who exactly are you?" He seemed pretty lax, especially considering his size. Titus started to speak. sighing.

"My name's Titus. I have literally no clue whatsoever how I got here. S'not to say it hasn't been fun, though. I've been kicking some ass," he said, gesturing towards his bloody bat, "and I met a pretty kick-ass chick. She's pretty friggin hot," he said, chuckling as he ruffled his hair. Eddie smiled at him.

"Yeah, I came in with a pretty similar start. You had that look to you. Well, I'm one of the leaders of Ironheade. Name's Eddie Riggs, but I prefer just Eddie. And the girl thing? Yeah, man, we have that in abundance. So who's the gal?" He gave Titus a coy look, as Titus glanced around. "Is it that one, the Zaulia?" he pointed at one of the face paint girls, while Titus just shook his head. He was searching around, looking, until he finally found her.

"That one, in the white shirt. Probably a bit young for you, but gah, she's hot." Titus did his best to keep from gawking, looking back at Eddie.

"…Shados?"

"Yeah, Shados. She's got that porcelain skin, jet-black hair, semi-goth look to her. Might not be your type, but I think she's pretty damn sexy, y'know?" Titus played up the words to him. Guys don't like hearing beautiful and cute, they like sexy and hot. He turned to see what Eddie would say.

"You little fucker…" Eddie grabbed the ax, pulling it from his back, without ever breaking eye contact. Apparently Titus said something he shouldn't have, considering Eddie's eye were turning red, as well as his skin, and bat wings were sprouting from his back. "My daughter… Is not sexy. That's gonna cost ya." His arm shot out with surprising speed, as he grabbed Titus' collar and lifted him into the air with one arm.

"Fuck… Listen man, I didn't mean it like that! I… Please!" Titus was gasping as they took flight. Eddie had the ax arm high, ready to swing, as Titus begged again.

"Dude, give me one chance, I'll prove it! I'm not some douche, stop!" He grabbed the large hand holding him up with both of his. Eddie narrowed his eyes, dropping back to the ground.

"Fine. One chance. You better be good at explaining, bitch." He tossed Titus down, still obviously angered.

"Listen, dude, I just got here from Seattle, and she met me. I'm not gonna do anything to her other than date, I swear. And that's if she wants to." His voice was shaking as he struggled to stand. Eddie sighed, putting his ax away and reverting.

"Fine. But I swear, if you break her heart or go too far with her, I'll turn your face into a glove and your ass into a shoe." He smirked, tossing him a pick in the shape of a cow skull. Titus got up, still shaking a tad as he turned to see Shados walking up with another woman. She was older looking, maybe 40, and her hair was a wispy platinum. Her eyes shined with pride, and she carried a halberd with threatening ease.

"Titus… Meet the leader of Ironheade, Lita Halford."


End file.
